The Destiel Show
by some kind of exquisite
Summary: A series of short, funny, I hope, scenes involving Cas and Dean. I wrote this on a sugar binge at 3AM so don't be madded at my sick humour. Please. :P *SKIT #4 NOW UP!*
1. Chapter 1

**The Destiel Show**

**Skit #1 - Shopping, The Bane of Castiel's existence**

It was a hot evening in Mississipi and thoughts of exorcising demons back to the fiery pit wasn't exactly helping matters as the brothers and their personal guardian angel, Castiel, sat around researching the chupacabra.

With a final huff of surrender, Dean slammed the thick tome down onto the dusty motel table.

"I've had it," he announced.

Castiel looked up, confused. Sam ignored him, bobbing his head in time to the Tupac beats on his bulky Discman while his nimble fingers navigated the web.

"I wanna go shopping," pouted Dean.

"Come again?"

"I want to go shopping," Dean repeated slowly, as if speaking to a hearing-impaired three year old and not an Angel who had been around back when he was still in diapers.

"Why do you want to go shopping?" Castiel asked, still utterly fascinated by Dean even after their four months of official couple status.

"Why _don't_ you wanna go shopping?" Dean challenged.

"I didn't say I didn't want to go shopping."

"So why are you asking me if I wanna go shopping?"

"I just want to know if there's a particular reason you want to go."

"Well, that's pointless."

"Why's that?" Castiel cocked his head to one side in genuine interest of what made Dean's convoluted mind tick.

"'Cause you're asking for a reason why I wanna go shopping which implies you have a reason not to go or be slightly opposed to the idea yet you reject the possibility of you wanting not to go which could only mean you wanna go or tolerate the idea yet you still request a reason stubbornly."

Castiel gaped back, his mouth forming a perfect 'O' shape. His brain scrambled to make sense of any of it.

"Wha- huh?"

"I'll go get my jacket!" squealed Dean.

*Cue singing of _Girls just wanna have Fun _by Cyndi Lauper*

"Okay, cas, I'm rea- What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

Castiel climbed up from the driver's seat, switching off the ignition. "Going shopping? Isn't that what you wanted, Dean?"

Before Dean could properly put his feelings into words, Sam loomed behind me, tall as ever and laughing like he was watching a Little Britain marathon.

"Now, Cas, I _know_ you didn't try to get all up Dean's ride like dat. Dat's some wack shit, man. Word."

Dean's jaw tightened and, without looking at his brother, he said: "Take it _way _down, Sammy."

"Right. Gotcha!" Sam grinned, giving him the 'peace out' sign.

"Is there a problem, Dean?" Castiel asked, his chocolate eyes wide and doe-like.

"Problem? Problem? Yes, Cas, there is a problem. You are in the Impala. That's THE Impala, Cas. Otherwise known as THE metallicar to rabid fangirls. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS?!"

"..." Castiel shook his head 'no'.

"Now, I'm a gentle, God-fearing man, Castiel; you know that, don't you?"

Castiel didn't answer.

"But. You. Never. Mess. With. My. Car. No driving it, no touching it, no LOOKING at it without my express written permission. Understood?"

"But...what if I wanna go somewhere? Castiel asked, carefully storing away this information about Dean for future use,

Dean stared back at him in disbelief. "What kind of angel are you, anyway? Can't you, I don't know, _fly_ or something?"

Castiel looked down at his worn Reebok sneakers. "I...I never learnt how. It's tr-true! I- I tried once and fell an-and-"

His lower lip pulled down into a quivering pout. "- and that's why my parents never hugged me!"

"Not once?"

Castiel shook his head solemnly.

"Dude, that's, like, _sick_. And not even sick like dope, man, just sad," Sam exclaimed, playing with the overgrown sleeves of his G-Unit hoodiee.

Dean nodded slowly. "Well, I don't care if you can't fly, Cas. I never learnt how either!"  
Castiel brightened. "You didn't?"

"Nope," grinned Dean. "Now, come on - retail therapy's just what you need!"

Once they were inside the car, Castiel sitting shotgun, Dean let him choose the music.

"Hey!" Sam protested. "Yo, that ain't cool! When I was all 'let's jam to some Dr. Dre, homies', you were all 'driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole' and I was all-"

"Sam, shut up," sighed Dean.

"No, that's what you said AFTER."

"REO," Castiel chose happily. "They're my FAAAAVEEEE!!!"

*Cue singing of _This Heart Attack _by Faker*

Dean raised his brows but kept his mouth shut, suffering silently. "Well, we both knew this relationship would have some hiccups."

They arrived at the crowded shopping centre as the merciless, blazing sun was setting.

Sam went over to 'keep it real' with his 'homies' over at the CD store whilst Dean tried on clothes at Hot Topic.

"What do you think, Cas?" he asked for the umpteenth time that trip. "Does it make my butt look big?'

"You look wonderful," Castiel smiled tiredly.

"You look tired," Dean pouted, "Here."

He tossed him his phone and Castiel stared at it as if it were an alien object then looked back up at Dean with questioning eyes.

"What, don't you have cellphones up there?"

"No, Dean - it's all a series of cans and string 'up there'. I used a top-of-the-line empty can of baked beans myself."

"...was that sarcasm?" enquired Dean.

"Yes."

"Yeah...never do that again, do you hear me?'

"Loud and clear, Dean," Castiel sighed.

"Good. Anyway, the phone is for you to take pictures of the types of clothes you'd like on me. Of the people inside the mall, I mean."

"Oh...kay?"

"Now, go. I must ask that salesman about that two for one deal they're having."

Castiel took the phone, attempting to figure out how Dean expected him to take pictures on this too-small, too-flashy gizmo.

*Cue singing of _Photograph_ by Nickelback*

He returned a few minutes later with only about seven (badly taken) pictures and a bruise on his cheek from where someone had slapped him for trying to take a picture of their jeans.

"Hey! Cas!" Dean waved him over. "Watcha got?"

Castiel handed him the tiny silver contraption, glad to be rid of it.

Dean nodded every now and then at the pictures but his breath stopped short when he got to one of the pictures. A cute blonde girl in a blood red leather mini jacket.

"What's this, Cas?" Dean asked, looking wounded. "A _girl_? Huh? You whore."

"I like the jacket," Castiel smiled sheepishly. "I didn't mean anything by it, Dean, I- I swear."

"Of course you didn't," sniffed Dean.

Castiel cudgeled his brains to come up with something to say. Before he could, he was being called.

"Not now..." he hissed at the department store's ceiling.

"What?" Dean demanded, though he already knew.

"Uriel...needs me." Castiel laid his hands out in front of him as if in surrender.

"No, no - it's fine," Dean turned dramatically. "You go home to your wifey, 'Uriel'."

He said the word 'Uriel' with a nasty, childish inflection.

"Ugh...Bu- I- Dean!" Castiel argued, reaching for loose threads.

"Go," cried Dean.

"Drama queen."

"What did you say?"

"That feather boa looks really _manly _on you, Dean!"

*Cue singing of _Ur So Gay _by Katy Perry*

END OF SKIT #1!!! =D


	2. Vessel, Ur So Hot

**The Destiel Show**

**Skit #2 – Vessel, Ur So Hot**

**A/N – So when I typed this, my Word kept trying to tell me 'Destiel' wasn't a word. I eloquently told it where to go…by hitting 'Add to Dictionary'. It's a word now, beyotches! I'll call the people at Oxford Dictionary in the morning. :P**

Castiel approached the door of the Jester's Inn motel, holding a thick file overflowing with information on their latest hunt – a coven of bloodthirsty vampires that were preying on hunters.

As soon as the opened the door – the Winchesters never locked it despite having the most to hide; "The things we fear don't _need_ a door" Dean would say – Sam pulled him into a clasped-hands, back-clapping hug.

"Yo, Count Castiel, what's _crackalacking_ my brotha?!" he drawled in his 'gangsta' inflection.

"What did I say, Sam?" sighed Castiel. "If I ever become a famous, commercial rapper, I wanna be called 'DJ Cazzalicious'. Got it?"

Sam pouted in a rather un-'gangsta' way and said: "But Count Castiel sounds SO much cooler!"

"Right," smiled Castiel. "So all the other rappers can tell me I 'suck like Dracula?"

"Speaking of Dracula," Dean walked in. "Did you get the info on the vampires?"

Castiel nodded, handing him the file.

"Anyway, Cas, sucking like the Drac wouldn't be so bad – all the other rappers _wish_ they could suck like that. You could totally flip that in your favour!"

Castiel remained tight-lipped. "…of course."

*Cue singing of 'Dirrty' by Christina Aguilera*

* * * *

While Sam went into the library in search of town records, Castiel and Dean lounged under a tree in matching grey corduroys and slim-fitting black Led Zeppelin tee shirts.

"So, this…guy you're possessing – he doesn't want his body back?"

Castiel suddenly looked ill and put the chicken salad sandwich he was eating down. "Well…I've rather grown to like him, haven't you?"

"He's hot," mumbled Dean.

"Pardon?"

"I mean…he's got some rather attr-attractive fea-features that could po-possible deem him…good looking?"

"Why, Dean…I get all tingly when you get wordy like that."

"…You do?"

*Cue singing of Hot by Avril Lavigne*

"SURPRISE!" Dean removed the navy blue handkerchief tied around Castiel's eyes. He opened them to see a restaurant lit by golden candles and quiet save for the hum of couples enjoying dinners together. It was most definitely _not _Chuck E. Cheese.

"Umm…wow?" Castiel tried, still confused. "Why are we here?"

"Silly rabbit! It's our five-month anniversary! Come on, I'll get the waiter to find out table."

Castiel smiled, touched though he was sure Dean was paying for this from poker money and cons.

Five minutes later

"Yo, so then I was all 'my brova, you ain't SEEN gangsta 'till you seen me!' and he was all 'punch, punch-"

"Did we _have _to bring him?" sighed Castiel.

Dean shrugged sheepishly. "He likes the bread basket."

Castiel nodded, picking at the slices of cheese-on-toast the restaurant had brought over.

"So Dean…what we were talking about…before. About my vessel?"

"Huh?"

"The man I'm inhabiting?" Castiel explained.

"Dumb it down, Doc."

"The person I'm possessing, Dean," Castiel tried again.

"Do I look like a Nobel prize winner to you?"

Castiel took a deep, pacifying breath. "The dude whose crib I'm all up in, Dean."

"I _think_ I'm beginning to get where you're coming from," said Dean slowly.

"Right. Well, I never told you the truth about him. See…John's dead. He couldn't handle the intensity of our relationship."

"…"

"He…He dies during…intercourse."

"Again with the SAT vocab, Cas!" complained Dean.

"Sex."

"No comprende`."

"HE DIED WHILE WE WERE PLAYING NAKED TWISTER!" exploded Castiel. He heard a spoon clatter to its plate noisily as the whole restaurant turned to gape at them.

Dean was completely oblivious. "Oh."

* * * *


	3. Edward Cullen, the Love of Dean's Life

**The Destiel Show**

**Skit #3 – Edward Cullen, the Love of Dean's life**

**A/N – It is (again) 3AM when I wrote this just as I was about to attempt this 'sleep' thing everyone tells me about. Lol. I was just watching the Twilight books on my shelf when it came to me. Bloody sick-minded genius, aren't I? :P**

**I'm still on a sugar binge of sorts – except it's off HOT CHOCOLATEEEEEEE now xD**

**Reviews are love. As in, I love when people appreciate my well-meaning insanity.**

Castiel came in through Dean's slightly ajar door, flipping through the papers Sam had printed out for him hastily.

"Dean, I think I've figured out where that coven of vampires is – Dean, what are you doing?"

Dean looked at the cover of the red-and-black book in his hand as if he'd forgotten himself. "It's called Twilight. I got it off Sam. It's _really _good. There's this one character, his name is Edward Cullen and OH! Cas, he is _dreamy_!"

Castiel shifted jealously. "Yeah? What does this 'Edward Cullen' got that I haven't?"

Dean flushed like an overexcited fan-girl (***cough*me*cough***). "He _sparkles_, Cas!"

"Pshhh, I can do that!" bragged Castiel. Focusing, he pulled the weak motel lights out of their bulbs and got them to hang above his head. With one last hum of concentration, the ball of energy bathed him in the most heavenly light, setting his features ablaze. He turned to Dean, excited to prove his point. Dean, however, looked bored.

"Are you a vampire, Cas?" Dean said in a monotonous voice. "'Cause otherwise, I'm not interested."

Castiel scowled, ending his little light show. "Speaking of vampires, get your stuff together; we're staking out that coven up north."

Dean looked excited. "Ooh! Think _they_ sparkle in the sun?!"

Castiel ignored him.

* * * *

**There's my short, impromptu update, people! Now I'm off to give sleeping another try. Don't be surprised if Sam is flying a broomstick Harry Potter-style in the next one. Lol. **


	4. Never say Never, Dean Winchester

The Destiel Show

Skit #4 – Never say Never, Dean Winchester

Sam was watching an old re-run of 21 Jump Street and Castiel was overlooking the county files they had retrieved for their newest 'gig', as Dean put it.

The door swung open then and Dean strolled in, his arms laden with alcoholic beverages.

"Guess what I've gooooooooooot?" he sang happily.

"…beer?" guessed Castiel, unenthused.

"A little _less _enthusiastic please, Cas?'

"Well, it's nothing new, Dean. You buy the same corrupting liquids every night. Should I be surprised?"

"Yeah, man – you be slamming down that shit every night like there's no tomorrow!" Sam jumped in.

"Well, there might as well not be because of the horrible hangovers you make us suffer with you through."

Dean narrowed his eyes and jutted out his lower lip. "Well, Mr. Moral and Sir Rap-a-lot, I was just going to say that we could play a game. I Never!"

"…you never what?" Castiel asked.

Sam burst out laughing and Dean sighed melodramatically. "No, Cas, the _game _is called I Never!"

"Oh. Well, how do you play?"

"One person says something they've never done and all those who have done it have to take a swig of beer….I've got Grey Goose, Jack Daniels, Smirnoff Ice-"

"Smirnoff Ice? That's pretty cheap," smirked Castiel. Dean glared at him.

"What?" Castiel argued. "You have to admit, it is pretty standard tramp-in-a-back alley drink."

"Well then, it's perfect for you, my little tramp," Dean smirked back.

Castiel said nothing. He nudged Sam away from the TV set, saying: "Up, Samuel, we must humour your brother's sinful game."

Sam was snoring away on the crappy motel couch. "Sam? Sam!"

Dean rolled his eyes. "YO T-DOG – GET YO GHETTOLICIOUS ASS UP OFF MA COUCH!"

Sam shot up, rubbing his eyes. "Wha- Hu- Heh?"

Castiel looked at Dean. "'T-Dog'?"

"Well, S-Dog doesn't sound too hot," Dean explained. "Sammy, we're playing I Never!"

"_I've never_ been woken so rudely before, dawg."

"Okay."

They assembled in a triangle and Dean passed around bottles of generic liquor store alcohol.

"Anyone wanna start? No? Okay, I will," grinned Dean. "I never…scorched someone's arm when trying to save them."

Castiel rolled his eyes and took a tiny drop of bitter liquor. "You won't get over that, will you?"

Dean laughed. "Your turn, Cazzy."

"Okay…I've never pretended to be mad at someone for burning them but gotten a secret perverted pleasure out of it to the point where I would think about the person during sex."

Dean gaped. "Why do I feel like this is somehow directed at me?"

He took a long swig, licking his lips afterward. Castiel made sure he was serious before saying, "…I really don't know."

"Okay, lay it on us Sammy!" Dean exclaimed, already feeling warm and tingly.

"Um…okay, I got one. I never got us kicked out of a motel for making too much noise next door then consequently developing a reputation for disturbing the peace to all the inns in the district."

Castiel and Dean both took grim swigs of their bottles.

"Okay, moving on… My turn again!" Dean said. "Let's see…I've never walked into the projects claiming to be the next Eminem and then ended the day in jail."

Sam glared at him and took a gulp of his rum-and-coke. Castiel chuckled under his breath.

"I think I'm starting like this game, Deanieeeee," he slurred. Dean smirked; he'd popped Castiel's alcoholic cherry.

"Okaaaaaaaayyyyy… I've never shoplifted!"

Sam reluctantly took a swig. They both gaped at him; even Dean had refrained.

Sam pouted. "I wanted Britney's new album but my dawgs would kill me for buying that commercial crap!"

Dean nodded as if that made SO much sense. "Totally; I get ya, bro."

"'Kay… I've never had sex in a public bathroom."

Only Castiel brought the bottle to his lips this time. Sam and Dean gawked at him, utterly shocked. "Ya-ya-you- B-b-but…"

"What? Don't tell me you've never had sex in a public bathroom?! It's so…exhilarating! The excitement, the dirty-"

"Alright – I think we've had enough I never and beer for the night," Dean scowled.

Castiel smirked. "Edward Cullen never takes you to public restrooms much?"

"Shut up."

**A/N: Well, Cazzy got jealous and now so is Deanie! See, there is justice in the world! Muahahahaaa…lol. Sorry for the late update. This will never happen again, promise! I'm meeting with my procrastination support counsellor twice a week and she's really helping me! :D Lmfao – just call 1800-Sex-with-Castiel!**

**DISCLAIMER: That may possibly be a like a porn chat thingy. Not that I've called it or anything… *cough***

**MORE IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: As is obvious by now, I do not possess the intelligence required to create such fabulous characters and wonderful show like Supernatural starring Gangsta Sammy, DJ Cazzalicious and Fan Girl Dean! One day, I will own Misha…hopefully. God, this is a long disclaimer…**

**Doo Dooo Doooo Dooooo. Ooh, butterfly! O.o**

**A/N2: And this was written at exactly 2:26 AM! It is official – the Destiel *CANNOT* be written in sane daylight! :O**


End file.
